


and after all this time I'm still into you.

by clairina



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Feelings, M/M, and babies, and general fluff really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:30:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairina/pseuds/clairina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>23rd of December, 2018 - Take one tired popstar losing what he thought was the love of his life and being left with the result of the last night they spent together. Add said popstar's best friend who might or might not still have feelings for him and you have the perfect conditions for them to raise a child together.  Spiked with anxiety about being a father and breakdowns because of unrequited love you get one hell of a love story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and after all this time I'm still into you.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so so much to melia and cecilia for putting up with me and helping with the process. love you lots xx

 

His phone started buzzing only seconds after he'd shut his eyes and he thought about ignoring it for a moment. Probably only a text he could read in the morning. The morning, which would be in about four hours. Whoever it was would most definitely survive if he didn't look at it now. Except it wasn't just a text and his phone wouldn’t stop vibrating next to his head. He still thought about ignoring it though because he was so fucking tired and not even sure if he'd be able to open his eyes. But then his brain kicked in and urged him to answer it because what if something had happened or someone needed him...

He didn't recognize the number on the screen, only saw that it was someone from New York calling. Well that could be anyone he knew over there really. Aimee was in New York visiting her parents, so were Nadia and Tom and he was pretty sure Ben had said something about New York earlier this week as well. Except he had all of their numbers saved in his phone, so it had to be someone who normally didn't call him or had changed their number or something.

“'lo?”

“Harry. It's Taylor. I'm sorry to call you this late but do you have a minute?”

Taylor. Cassadee's manager who he had exchanged about three sentences with in his whole life. Suddenly he wasn't that tired anymore. He was wired, his body tense at her tone and he was fucking scared because why on earth would she call him at three am?

“What's wrong?” He sat up so fast that his head was spinning a little as he cleared his throat silently as not to miss her answer. But when it finally came – sounding broken and weak – he wished he hadn't picked up in the first place.

“Cassadee...she died, Harry. I'm sorry. I found her in her apartment-...” He couldn't completely make out the rest of what she said. Something about drugs and an ambulance maybe. He tried to concentrate on her words but he couldn't do it with the images flashing up before his eyes.

Cassadee’s blonde hair and clear blue eyes shining at him whenever they'd been able to make time for each other and her smile, so big that it always forced him to smile too. He had flown out to her every second he could for five fucking years. She couldn't be gone. It wasn't possible because she was the love of his life and they'd end up together. She had said it herself, that when they were a little older and the media wouldn't be as interested in both of their lives anymore they'd buy a house and settle down and everything would be just like they'd always dreamed. She had said it would happen. How was it supposed to happen if she wasn't there?

He felt sickness crawling up his throat and something hammering in the back of his head making him dizzy and he literally felt like passing out when he faintly heard his name being repeated vigorously.

“Harry! Harry, listen to me. You need to come out here. She was pregnant. They managed to save the baby... it's yours. She left a note. Harry, are you still there?”

“Yes... I'm... I'll...I'll be there as soon as I can.” It's yours. They managed to save the baby. Baby.

He managed to end the call before he rushed off to his en suite bathroom.

Taylor's words were ringing in his ears as he emptied out his stomach into the toilet bowl until he was left with his body shaking with dry and painful heaves combined with sobs that were threatening to tear his ribcage apart.

Slumped next to the toilet, still sobbing silently and without any tears because apparently his body had run dry. He didn't know how long he'd been here, could've been an hour could’ve been three minutes, but the words baby and yours were still terrorizing his mind which would’ve been hard enough even without his heart being ripped out by the words Cassadee and dead.

If it was up to him he just wouldn't get up again. He'd stay on his bloody bathroom floor and keep choking until he'd puked his fucking guts out. But it wasn't that easy. Because of the baby. His baby. In New York.  
He didn't know how on earth he did it but he managed to get up eventually and stumble back to his bed. He frantically dug through the sheets in search for his phone, panicking when he couldn’t find it. His hands were shaking when he finally did and called the one person he always had on speed dial.

“Mhh?”

“Nick...please come. Please...need you. Can't....urgh...I'm...sorry I'm....fuck..”

“On my way..."

  
\---

  
“Flight A507 is boarding now. This is the last call for Flight A507.”

His legs felt like they were going to fall off from relentlessly bobbing up and down for the last thirty minutes. His hands were shaking. Still or again, he didn't really know. He was quite sure that they hadn't stopped since he'd gotten the call twelve hours ago but his body was so tired that he could just be hallucinating.  
One thing he wasn't imagining was Nick sitting next to him though, just as tired and heartbroken – because Harry wasn't the only one who'd lost a loved one – but so calm that it made Harry feel safe. Well, as safe as he could be. He still felt like throwing up every two seconds but Nick's thigh pressed against his grounded Harry and kept him from curling up in a ball of misery on the airport floor in front of them.

“It's not our flight, is it? Should we go? Do we need to go?” If he kept gnawing on his bottom lip there probably wouldn't be anything left of it when they finally boarded the plane but he couldn't stop. His body was on fire and he couldn't stop it.

“No, love. We are on the one after that. Relax. Close your eyes for a bit.”

He felt a firm hand on his knee forcing it to keep still before another started stroking his back, up and down in a slow and steady rhythm.

“Can't. Don't wanna... I can't.” His body was aching with exhaustion and begging him to stop talking nonsense and finally rest but his brain wouldn’t let him. “There's so much...what am I gonna do, Nick? How am I supposed...like...I am so busy...but...I need to take care of...you know... how am I-”

“We'll handle it once we get there, Harry. No use worrying about it now. Close your eyes. Come 'ere. Close them.”

Nick guided Harry’s head to his chest with a little more force than what would be called gentle and kept it there until he stopped resisting and started concentrating on the movement of Nick’s hand, slowly inching up to his shoulder-blades before softly going back down again. “It'll be fine. We'll manage, popstar.”

Harry admired Nick for his strength. He was always so steady and calm and there for him and if he said it would be fine then it would be. Harry would just ignore the unfamiliar sounding little crack in Nick's voice and believe him like he always did. Nick had never let him down before so there’d be no reason to believe he would do now. If Nick said it would be fine it would be fucking fine, even if Harry didn't have a clue as to how that would happen. He was thinking about how to rearrange his schedule while Nick's hand kept stroking his back, warm and reassuring.

He dared to close his eyes for just a second and tried to focus on the sound of Nick's heartbeat instead of the voices in his head. Just like Nick himself it was steady and consistent and eventually lulled Harry to sleep despite his brain protesting vehemently.

\---

  
He had no clue how long he'd been standing there watching the baby’s chest slowly rise and fall but he couldn't stop. There was something hypnotizing about it that made it impossible for Harry to step away. As if his tiny lungs wouldn't continue breathing if Harry didn't watch him, like it was essential for Harry to control his every fucking breath - which he would do. If that was what it took then Harry would do that.

“Harry, love. Don't you wanna come and eat something?”

Nick's voice took him by surprise and his body kind of jumped, acting as if it had to protect the little creature behind the glass from whoever dared coming close but then Harry realised who it was and felt ridiculous.

“Not hungry thanks.”

“Harry...”

“Look at him, Nick. He's so fucking tiny and... all these tubes... that must be horrible.”

It looked horrible anyway. Most of them were thicker than his arms but they were connected to his small body all over, giving him air or food or whatever else they were doing.

“I know. It probably is...but they are just making things easier for him. We should still get something to eat. Maybe talk, yeah? Cassadee's mum is here.”

The word made Harry’s stomach twist, calling her Mum was taking it a little too far seeing as Cassadee and her hadn't talked in years.

“Why would I wanna talk to her? I'll stay here.”

Harry had never met her in person. He'd heard stories about how she'd raised Cassadee, or really, about how she hadn't raised her but left it to the nanny and later had gone on to pushing Cassadee into the whole fashion career. Not that that hadn't been Cassadee's dream, but on different terms than her mums. So, no, Harry didn't really have an urge to talk to the shallow and cold-hearted excuse of a mother that – for whatever reason – turned up when it clearly was too late.

“She's here for the baby, Harry. She's the closest relative...” Of course. Of fucking course. He spun around. Again too fast for his own good, immediately feeling sick.

“I'm his father. She has nothing-” Normally Harry didn't really have a temper but that had apparently changed in the last few hours since he got in charge of protecting the little human being behind the glass from having to face anything worse than he’d already had.  
“They don't have proof for that yet. Taylor called her here after she called you and as long as the results aren't back you don't really have any legal rights.”

They had taken his stupid DNA hours ago, was it really so hard to compare it to the baby's and see if he was his child? They were professionals weren't they? If Harry could feel it they could bloody well find it out too. His head was spinning again, not that it ever had stopped, but now it was back on full speed and he wanted to say so many things because it was his child but he couldn't form a single sentence.

“They won't do anything without the test results, Harry. But you should still talk to them and sort everything out. Someone has to take that little boy home when he's strong enough and that won't be some completely rigged bitch with a fake New York accent, alright? Pull your crap together. I know how shit the situation is, I’m in it, but that is your son lying there and he is depending on you sticking up for him. So you will come with me and at least nod along to what I have to say to them.”

Nick had been completely calm and collected for the whole trip, up until now he'd almost been too calm for Harry's taste because Nick wasn't Nick if he wasn't exaggerating everything, but when it was about something this important Nick was back. Strong, confident and passionate Nick that wouldn't let any bullshit happen to Harry or the little version of him bravely forcing his chest to go up and down behind them.

“We will take this child home, Harry.”

And that was it. Harry couldn't do anything but swallow heavily after the storm that had rampaged over him, so he took a glance back to check if everything was right and then nodded gathering up his senses to follow Nick down the corridor.

\---

“The test results say that Harry is his father so there is no reason to be even discussing this right now. As soon as the child is strong enough to travel Harry will take it back to London with him. That's it. I don't see anything he should be discussing with you anymore.”

Sitting there with a coffee in his hands he listened to Nick, who he had never been more grateful for. For the last twenty minutes Nick had taken every shitty comment Cassadee's mother had thrown at him and turned them into well-conceived arguments against her. Now she was just sitting there shooting daggers at Harry as if she was about to jump his throat at any second.

“How do you suppose you will look after a child when you are busy going out and jetting around the world? Your choice of lifestyle doesn't really leave any room for a child, does it?” With the most evil smile on her lips she continued staring at him, sure of her victory, and deliberately ignoring Nick.

“Well, I- ” Nick didn't even let him start to answer, because he knew that Harry was in no way able to speak sensibly, not because he thought Harry didn't have anything to say. Harry’s whole mind was full of things he had already thought out and wanted to shove into her face so she'd see that he was in fact able to take care of his child, but they were all overshadowed by weariness and exhaustion. Instead, as always, his knight in shining armour stepped in for him.

“First of all – his life doesn't consist of going out and jetting around the world. He has a job that demands a lot of time, yes. Nothing that hasn't been managed before though. And he sure as hell isn't alone in this. There are tons of people with babies in our circle of friends that would gladly help out and when he is gone I am there to take care of things. There won't be a second of the day where this child needs to be taken care of by a nanny, unlike yours, I suppose? If I recall correctly Cassadee has been raised almost completely by the nanny you hired when she was six months old and kept on until she was thirteen, so you definitely know the concept which we are trying to avoid here.”

Under different circumstances Harry would probably have jumped to his feet to give Nick standing ovations for that, and he would also have liked to kiss his fucking face off for sticking up for Harry like that. Nick had been his friend for more than seven years now and never had Nick been anything but good to people - even if they were as shitty as Cassadee's mum - so it was actually quite unfamiliar seeing him using that kind of subtlety to fight her off. It was just as effective as it was unusual and her face transformed into a bitter mask as she got up from her seat.

“You'll realise your mistake soon enough. I might not be able to take him away from you now but we'll see how it all ends and who he will end up with eventually.” Harry was staring up at her as she spat out the words, horrified by how bitter a person could be. She had just lost her daughter and instead of mourning or trying to find the best solution for her grandchild, she was in a rage over losing the rights to something she just wanted out of spite. That something was his child and he couldn't understand how someone could be so incapable of feeling empathy for the tiny human being struggling for his life right now.

Still petrified by her exit after she had stormed off, he sat there slumped in his chair, staring at Nick. Nick who had stood so fucking tall for him and had, as always, been so brave and confident and there for him that Harry was afraid his chest might burst with appreciation and love.

“Thank you.”

He wanted to say so much more. Like I am so fucking grateful for having you and You are the bravest person I have ever met and I don't know how to manage anything without you but all he managed were those two shitty raspy words, not even properly said but whispered. Nick squeezed his shoulder as he got up, collecting both of their coffee cups from the table.

“Always, popstar. Let's go check on mini-Harold, yeah?”

\---

Nick had pretty much dragged him away from the window separating them from the premature baby unit and now he was sitting on their hotel bed just staring into space, listening to the sounds of Nick showering next door. Nick had initially asked for two separate rooms but Harry had begged him to share one because he didn't want to be alone and, in all honesty, he was scared of being without Nick even for a second. So he just sat there waiting for Nick to come out of the shower, noticing how hard it was to actually keep his eyes open. That was when he realised how fucking tired Nick must have been. When Harry had called him he had been fully awake and in his car, then Nick had come over, taken care of Harry and called around to organise flights for them as soon as possible. The time between then and actually driving to the airport had been full of throwing things into bags and calling everyone Harry had been unable to contact earlier because of the shock he had been in. At the airport, Nick had lulled Harry to sleep but - as far as Harry knew - never closed his own eyes, neither on the plane nor on the drive to the hospital. And now here they were after a whole day of stress and anxiety attacks, on Harry's side, and a lot of discussions with different people and Nick was still not resting as he stepped out of the shower after a few minutes. He looked exhausted though, much older than he really was with huge bags under his usually bright eyes and a slight stubble on his skin.

“Should have a go, too. Feels good. 'm gonna step out for a fag.” Nick’s words weren't as clear anymore, a bit slurred and heavy with lack of sleep as he put on his jacket and shoes.

“Nick?” He was almost out of the room when Harry forced the words out. “He doesn't have a name yet.”

Harry was probably the worst father in the world because he most definitely should be thinking about how to manage raising this kid, not what to call it; but it felt so impersonal to talk about the baby when he didn't even have a name. It didn't feel like he was properly there if he wasn't called anything.

“D'you have something in mind?”

“Dunno... I thought... like... something she would've liked... you know... Cassadee.”

Saying her name out loud actually felt like ripping his own heart out of his ribcage, but looking at Nick when he said it made it even worse.

Nick flinched, actually flinched and quickly looked down so that Harry couldn't see his face anymore. It brought back the thought that nobody – especially Harry - had taken care of Nick. Nick had lost one of his friends but hadn't even gotten a minute to be weak and actually mourn because he'd been busy looking after Harry this whole time. Just as Harry thought to get up and walk towards him to at least embrace Nick in a hug, the older man turned to the door and grabbed the handle.

“Noel...? It's Christmas and she always had a weakness for French... dunno...” He shrugged before zipping up his jacket and opening the door, murmuring something about being back in a bit.

Harry sat there, staring at the now closed door in front of him. Noel. He could actually hear her voice saying it in the faint British accent that had remained after living in New York for so long and somehow he felt like it was the only logical thing to call him. Nick was right, it was two days ‘til Christmas and somehow Harry had managed to get himself a Christmas miracle. On detours for sure...but there it was. Lying in that bloody incubator, braver than he himself had ever been.

Noel.

\---

When Harry jolted awake it was still dark out and Nick was snoring softly next to him. Finally. He remembered falling asleep to Nick’s voice steadily talking about something Harry couldn't recall, meaning Nick had still been awake when Harry drifted off. Now he definitely wasn't anymore and that took a load off Harry's mind because no human would've been able to stay this wired for so long without eventually collapsing.

A quick look at his phone told Harry that it wasn't even five am yet so it was probably a little too early to think about going to the hospital. He couldn't go back to sleep now either because as soon as his brain started working it had also started repeating the same thoughts over and over again.

Who is gonna watch Noel when I am working? How am I supposed to raise a child? I don't even have a sleeping schedule. I have to organise a nursery. Which colour do I use for the walls? Who is gonna watch Noel when I am working? Can I reduce my commitments? Louis did when El had Lilly. How am I supposed to raise a child? I don't even-

“Why are you up? 's night time.”

Seriously, how did he do that? How did Nick wake up from the deepest and most needed sleep ever to calm Harry down and pull him out of a stupid panic attack? It was like he had some kind of sixth sense trained to register any kind of commotion in Harry. If he hadn't already been starting to hyperventilate with the questions running through his head he'd done that now, like all those screaming girls did when they met him because in their eyes he was perfect and good and worth hyperventilating over. They were wrong because he wasn't really, but Nick definitely was. He was worth hyperventilating over and he deserved a Nobel prize along with anything else he wanted.

“Hey, calm down, popstar. What's on your mind? Come on, out loud.”

The big warm hand was back on his shoulder, stroking up and down as if to sweep the anxiety out of Harry’s body. He looked back at Nick who was still lying there, eyes closed and face relaxed while his hand kept on moving.

“I don't know... how to do it.” Once the words had left Harry’s mouth he felt so helpless that it crushed his heart. There was a little boy relying on him and he had no idea what to do except freak out about it.

“Do what?”

“Be his father. Take care of him. Raise him. I can't...I don't know how to do that.”

Why was Nick still so bloody calm? Harry was sitting here having the biggest crisis of his life, not like the one where he didn't know what to wear for his Madison Square Garden show but a real one, and Nick was just lying there.

“Already are, Harold. You're already doing all these things and the rest will be fine once we are back. We'll manage bringing that child up.”

Harry tried to give that one a thought. Tried to make out if Nick meant what he said or if those words were just a result of the sleep still fogging up his mind.

“We?” He didn't know how to subtly ask Nick if he really was offering to help Harry raise this child. He didn't know how to appropriately ask him about it because he was overwhelmed by the prospect that he might actually be up for it.

“What?”

“You said we.”

“Well, you're obviously not going to do it on your own, love, and she was my friend too. I definitely wasn't involved in making him but I still wanna see him live past his second birthday. And with just you in charge of keeping him alive that might not be very likely.”

And that was that.

As if he was just joking around like always, Nick brushed the fact that he just consented to raise a child with Harry off like it was no big deal. Like that was something you did every day; make plans to raise a child with your popstar friend who was nine years younger than you. Who had rejected you after a drunken confession of love following several hookups and pretty much living together a few years ago. Who was in no way able to repay you for everything you'd already done for him up to this point. Ever.

“Don't look at me like that. You can finally pay me back for all the nights you spent at my flat. About time I benefit from having a stinking rich friend. I get the bedroom farthest away from the nursery. Now go back to sleep.”

“I love you.”

He got a mumbled love you too, popstar back but Nick was already nuzzling into his pillow, calm and relaxed as ever, like they hadn't just planned out their whole future together, including raising a fucking child.

\---

“Why am I the one carrying the bloody child? You are like super buff and everything. And don't give me the weak jet-lagged look. You probably slept for five hours on that fancy private jet of yours, dear friend.”

Ever since Nick had welcomed them at the airport he hadn't stopped talking. Somewhere in the back of his mind Harry had worried about things changing for them now that they were kind of raising a child together. Once Nick had left them in New York because he had to work and deal with things – like selling his place – Harry hadn't stopped thinking about what all of this would do to their friendship. Maybe Nick would be weird or they would start fighting. They had never had a single fight in seven years. He couldn't fight with Nick. Considering all those worries, Nick's constant stream of idiotic rants about literally anything relaxed Harry. Nick wouldn't be awkward or fight with him, Nick would be Nick.

“Harold, stop staring into space. Close the door.”

“Right. Sorry. Didn't sleep on the plane though...like...yeah. Didn't.”

“Right...k then.”

Nick gave him his usual fond but distraught look before bending down to free Noel out of his carrier and pick him up. When Harry had attempted to pick him up for the first time the nurses had given him advice on how to do it properly because he was still much smaller and more fragile than the usual new-born. Nick did it like it was the most natural thing in the world and left Harry standing there feeling both proud – which was probably stupid – and like the biggest idiot in parenting history.

“Alright, come on then. You need to see his room. Aimee and I painted it. Like all by ourselves. And we even built everything. Well...she did most of it. But I read the instructions so...yeah. We thought about maybe retraining and becoming professional interior decorating people.”

As they made their way up the stairs Harry mentally slapped himself for ever doubting this whole thing for a second. He'd known Nick was good with kids, practically the godfather of everyone's child but in all honesty he had questioned Nick’s ability to actually be responsible and grown-up 24 hours a day. Nick liked socialising and not sitting still for more than ten minutes and having people over all the time. That didn't really go well with taking care of an infant. But after Nick opened the door to what had previously been just one of the three guest rooms, while effortlessly keeping Noel close to his chest with one hand, Harry didn't worry anymore.

The way it didn't really make a difference for Nick if he was holding a child or not, along with the brightness of his eyes when he presented the nursery were all it took for Harry to finally realise that he couldn't have picked a better person to do this with.

“What do you say? Why aren't you saying anything? You don't like it.”

“What?”

“You have been walking around and touching everything but you didn't say a word yet. Noel, your father is already going crazy. Told you that would happen.” Talking to the small bundle in his arms, Nick crossed the room to stand next to Harry and stare at him a frown wrinkling his forehead.

“Love it.”

He did. It was bright and spacious and as vintage as expected from something Nick and Aimee decorated. Beside the white wooden crib, the matching chest of drawers and changing table - which all probably cost a fucking fortune because they were made by some fancy hipster designer that everyone in the clique loved - Harry noticed a big rocking chair in the corner that looked awfully familiar.  
“Where did you get that?”

“Oh right, yes... that. Your mum and Gemma brought that over last week as a house-warming gift for mini Harold here.”

“'s our old one...like...from when we were kids.”

“I know.” From now on Harry would just blame every fucking emotion that came over him on his hormones or something. Pregnant women did that all the time so there must be some way for new fathers to do that too. As if he had already learned distraction techniques from Nick Noel started crying and with that pulled Harry away from his trip down memory lane since his natural reaction to hearing the baby cry was still panicking a little. Nick's wasn't of course, he just shifted Noel in his arms and started talking to him in a hushed voice. After what seemed like two seconds, Noel was quiet again.

“So you like it, yeah? We went for like beige and white and stuff because blue's for losers. And there are little teddies on the border so you can't really say anything against it.”

“It's great, Nick. Honestly... I need to call Aimee. Thank her. Did someone else help you?”

If somebody ever asked him about Nick's – well, and his – friends and what he liked most about them Harry would always answer with the same thing; the way they were always there for each other, in every situation. If it was helping to move house or supporting Nick at one of his DJ gigs. They were always there, especially Aimee who had been the first one to welcome Harry into the clique all those years ago and who never really left Nick's side.

“Well… Henry helped painting, when Aimee had to work. Pix and Gellz bought loads of clothes...dunno, everyone kind of helped with stuff. Fincham made a Team Grimmy onesie...so yeah.” Well, if that didn't prove Harry's point... “Oh, and I put some of my stuff into the guest room because... you know. Gotta clean out my flat but I didn't know where to put it yet, so..yeah.”

If Harry hadn't seen it with his own eyes he never would've believed anyone telling him that Nick looked unsure of himself. But he did, just like he could imagine what giving up your house to move into someone else’s must feel like.

“Yeah... we should look through it together I guess...if you want to, I mean. We have to talk about stuff anyway...like...it's your house too, now..”

\---

Harry couldn't believe how fast five weeks could go by. Normally when he had a long time off he would feel bored out of his mind after the first two or three days; now he had been in New York for nearly three weeks and at home for two without even thinking about so much as singing a single note or giving an interview. He did miss the other lads although they'd all been round to visit Noel at least once and he did miss singing and performing and being a popstar. That's what he was good at and since they had brought the recording of their new album to a full stop once things had happened it was time for Harry to go back to that now. It felt strange though, leaving Nick alone with things they had put up with together for the last couple of weeks.

As always the sound of Noel's voice took him back to reality. He wasn't crying, just babbling stuff Harry was sure meant something and he was supposed to understand while Noel was lying in the bouncy seat Nick's parents had brought him when they'd been in London earlier that week.

“I don't understand you, hun. You know that. Nick probably does. He'll be here in like no time...Just wait and tell him again!” It still felt crazy how fast he had grown in front of Harry's eyes. He was still a tiny thing, smaller than most infants were right after they were born, and he didn't do much but eat and sleep but he definitely wasn't as weak and fragile anymore. He no longer needed the tube providing him with oxygen and he gained weight like mad, which calmed Harry down a fucking lot. They couldn't be doing everything wrong if Noel grew and got stronger and everything, right? He even managed to stay awake for longer now, actually looking around for a bit. That was good, Harry was sure it was, at least all the books he had stolen from Eleanor said so.

While he was still staring at Noel who was just peacefully lying around, Puppy suddenly jumped up, the dangling of her collar cutting through the silence. As if stung by an adder she raced to the front door and now, when Harry listened closely, he could hear a car door closing and shortly afterwards Nick's key turned in the lock. It still amazed Harry how the dog could first of all make out which car was arriving and, secondly, how fucking excited she still got. For the last five years her elation hadn't faltered one bit.

“Oh hiya, babe. Missed you too... so much. But let me in, will you? Bloody freezing. Come on...” Still accompanied by the dangling sounds from Puppy, Harry could hear Nick hanging up his jacket and kicking off his shoes before entering the kitchen.

“There's my favourite boy...” Crouching down next to the seat and turning it around to get a proper glimpse at Noel, Nick immediately started chatting away as if they were two adults having a serious conversation. Puppy sat down next to them, now perfectly calm again, carefully sniffing Noel's feet. Harry watched her, amazed by how she changed from bundle of energy to personified carefulness whenever she was around the baby. After observing the situation for a bit though, he felt left out and cleared his throat, making Nick look up at him through stupidly long lashes.

“Oh, hi, Harold. Almost didn't see you there.” He got up from his crouch as always exaggerating that whole old man posture while walking around the cooking island Harry was standing behind.

“Oof, not getting any younger here...might need a stair lift soon. Shouldn't have gone for a doter to move in with you. Seriously...you're gonna have to change two sets of nappies soon. Didn't think that one through, did you?”

Harry had just listened to three and a half hours of Nick brainlessly chattering away but he still stood there with the fondest of fond smiles on his lips and listened to the words flowing out of Nick's mouth while he looked through the fridge.

“Oh wait. Aren't you supposed to be a popstar today? Back to work and everything?” Right. Yes. He'd almost forgotten about that, they had agreed on meeting up at the studio around twelve. It was nearly eleven now which meant Harry should probably get going in about ten to fifteen minutes except he still felt strange about it. Not just about leaving Nick, but also going back to recording and his normal routines because...well it just felt strange.

“Yeah...guess so.”

“Hey, what about that mopey face?” Effortlessly picking up Noel out of his seat, Nick walked into the living room, slumping down on the couch and signalling Harry to follow him.

“You love being a popstar...and you need to get that bloody album done or we'll starve to death because daddy can't pay for our food anymore. That would be a shame, Harold. You have three persons relying on your money now, don't let us down.” Shifting until he had found the most comfortable position for him and Noel to lie in for their daily mid-morning nap, Nick giggled at his apparently very funny joke which wasn't supposed to warm Harry's heart the way it did. Just like seeing Nick and Noel having a routine shouldn't, but it did and he desperately tried to blink away the stars in his eyes before Nick could notice them.

“No... yeah, right. I can't wait it just...dunno. Feels kinda strange to go back, I guess. Don't wanna miss something while I'm gone.” He knew Noel wouldn't start talking or walking today, he wasn't that stupid but there could still be something that Harry didn't get to see and in eighteen years he would end up regretting driving to the fucking studio.

“We will snapchat you every ten minutes. You'll get a picture of every crazy shit we are getting ourselves into, yeah? And we won't open the door for strangers and definitely won't light any candles or anything. Go to work, love. The world needs its favourite popstar back. Bugger off now, we are tired.” With his free hand Nick shooed him away and Harry couldn't really argue with anything he said.

Replaying Nick's words in his mind over and over again he obeyed quietly and went to get dressed and collect his things before leaving. And if he felt the urge to kiss both of them and not just Noel goodbye when he took a last look at them, then Nick didn't have to know. It was probably just his hormones again.

\---

When Harry pulled up the driveway it was close to midnight and he was exhausted. It was the good kind of exhausted because they'd recorded their bloody asses off and it was all back for good and he felt great to have worked again, but he'd also fucking missed Noel and Nick, just lounging about with them and with every single one of the promised snapchats Nick had sent him he'd wanted to go home even more. Now that he finally was they'd both be asleep and there was nothing he could do really.

He tried his best to be quiet when he got in and did an impressive job of it, he reckoned; if only Nick hadn’t been passed out on the couch and unable to witness that...  
Tinctured in the blue light coming from the Enjoy sign above the TV, the living room was silent except for the low sound of two people slowly breathing. Blaming it on the exhaustion and the generally emotional state he’d been in recently, Harry ignored the way his stomach gave a little twist when he looked into the neon light, remembering everything he associated with it, before averting his eyes to look down on his son cuddled into the soft fabric of Nick's jumper. And sure, he had managed to ignore his feelings before but it was no use anymore. He felt a wave of pride – what the fuck was he proud of? - and happiness and love and just general fondness wash over him.

Since he didn't really know what to do, he fumbled after his phone and quickly took a picture to make sure he wouldn't forget what he’d just seen. The first person to send it to that came to his mind was Nick which was odd because... well, he was in the picture. It was just that every time Harry took a picture of whatever fascinated him, he sent it to Nick to share it with him so it was really just the logical thing for his brain to do.

Being the smart device it was, his phone asked him if he wanted to share the picture on Instagram and... well, he kind of did. Except the world would probably go crazy and he hadn't discussed it with Nick yet. Impressively enough they had been able to completely shut the media out of their lives for the past five weeks, so publishing that picture now would probably crash the entire internet. Even thinking about the consequences of somewhere down the line going public with the arrangement made Harry nauseous and he pushed it to the back of his mind until Nick would be awake to calm him down while discussing it. So, instead of sharing it with the entire world, he sent it to Gemma - who had turned into the world's most excited aunt - adding the caption two sleeping beauties xxx.

As he carefully sat down next to them, touching Nick's foot – definitely not on purpose though – it dawned on Harry that Gemma was the closest thing to a mother Noel still had left and with that he was back to feeling sick and helpless. Taking care of a baby had definitely taken his mind off things but it didn't mean that he’d forgotten where that baby came from. That he'd been with Cassadee only nine months ago and that now she was gone. Just gone. Not there to take care of their child. Not there for him to love her or for Nick to be her stupid best friend.

She had gone from barely being there because of her living in New York to not being there at all because dead, and he couldn't fucking handle that. Mostly because he thought that he perhaps would've been able to change her mind if he'd been there, if he hadn't left and been busy and toured the fucking world. Maybe if he'd just been there-  
  
“Didn't hear you coming in, Styles. Respect.” Nick's voice was hushed and sleepy and did the things as always; bring Harry back to earth and pull him away from destructive thoughts. “How was work?”

“Good...'t was good.”

“What's wrong?” Nick shifted a bit to sit up, carefully holding Noel in place so he wouldn't wake up. Once he had done that his foot was no longer touching Harry and Harry had to force himself to not to close the gap between them again, which he knew was ridiculous but he didn't make the rules, did he?

“Nothing. Just...tired. And missed you. That's all.” Just as he had noticed several times over the last few weeks, Nick didn't react at all to any kind of affection shown towards him, which was unusual and really unsettling because it felt like he was plainly rejecting every sign of devotion from Harry.

Harry remembered that kind of behaviour from a time he didn't like to think back to, when Harry and Cassadee had been inseparable and Nick had gotten drunk and told Harry he was in love with him. Harry had kind of felt the same way, though not quite, and had said that it was unfair to Nick and that he was afraid of what the public might say. Basically Harry had fucked shit up so badly that he had feared for their friendship for a very long time. A lot like right now, Nick had pretty much withdrawn any sign of affection towards Harry and had barely interacted with him at all if it wasn't for work or when their friends had all hung out together. It had taken a few months before Nick had started teasing Harry again and even longer to go back to their casual sleepovers and bickering and touching and just being Nick&Harry.  
  
They'd never gone back to being more than best mates though, which Harry understood because even if Nick didn't feel that way anymore – he obviously didn't considering his recent flings with every hot guy on the planet – it probably still felt strange for him.

Saying that Harry understood Nick’s behaviour didn't really mean he supported it, because for Harry it was definitely possible to be in love with two people at once. Like, yes he had been head over heels for Cassadee and planned their future together and everything, but looking at their history of cheating on people, lying to both each other and to everyone else on top of just being generally destructive obviously meant they weren’t meant to be.  
He loved Nick with every fibre of his goddamn heart, he had never stopped, and Nick had never failed to make Harry the happiest person on earth even once.

The only thing holding him back from actually committing to Nick had been Harry’s worry of not being enough for him. He was obviously just rambling again though, because Nick didn't feel that way about him anymore and that meant it was completely pointless to even think about. So Harry stopped, cleared his throat and looked up, realising that he hadn't said anything in quite some time and Nick was looking at him worriedly.

“Sorry. Did you say something? Spaced out.”

“Bed.” With the usual god you’re a bloody idiot smile on his lips, Nick nodded towards the bundle on his chest and Harry carefully picked up Noel to carry him upstairs while Nick switched off the neon sign and disappeared into his bedroom.

\---

Between working his ass off to maintain his career, and having scheduled naps at both eleven am and four pm, it was apparently possible for Harry to have three months just fly by. That was how he found himself in his kitchen at nine in the morning with two pairs of eyes staring at him as he was preparing breakfast for Puppy, Noel and himself.

“Still sounding so good that record. Has really grown on me, Finchy. Not that I didn't like it at first because here at the BBC we love every record equally, don't we, Matty?”

While Harry actually had to concentrate on not pouring his milk over the dog food or putting cereal in Noel's bottle, Nick was already bantering away, entertaining the nation.

“Sure we do... especially the new One Direction one, eh? We love that a whole lot.”

“Yes, good song that.”

“Must have been rather stressful to record that with a new born baby at home. For Harry Styles I mean...if you didn't follow the recent news. He actually has got himself a cute baby boy.”

Providing Puppy with her bowl of food, Harry couldn't stop himself from smiling at Matt's comment.

“Did he? Good for him. Bless that child for keeping up with him every day, eh? So what's next? The news? Wanna go to the news, Finchy?”

“Nah, it's actually too early for the news still. Says banter on the sheet in front of you, darling. So funny thing – you have recently been spotted out and about with said popstar and child. And you sold your house, didn't you? Any connection there, Grimshaw? Your listeners feel left out.”

Listening to those two was very much like watching Mean Girls or something, so Harry took both the food and his child to the dinner table as quietly as possible so as not to miss anything that was being said.

“Right, I did sell my house to move into a bigger one, yes. Thought I'd give that poor popstar a hand you know, with raising a child and all.”

Of course Fincham didn't miss the opportunity to play a wedding bell sound-effect while Nick was still talking and there was obvious giggling and throwing things before they went silent again.

“Yes, very funny, Finchy. Anyway as all the main tabloids have already written I am doing that simply for the huge amounts of money I am getting out of it, so there we go. Story of the day. I went from DJ to nanny. Have a child to watch? 81199. I need the money.”

Nick crossed over into the news without further notice and Harry was sat there feeding Noel, staring at his own, by now soggy, cereal. He had never met anyone who dealt more perfectly with shitty rumours than Nick did. Lately Nick’s had honestly been so fucking stupid that Harry had started to feel really bad for him.

While Harry was heroized for taking on the task of raising a child, Nick was slagged off for apparently using Harry for fame and money and the opportunity to finally get into Harry’s pants after all these years. Basically every goddamn tabloid made it look like that and honestly... Harry didn't get it. The biggest obscurity for him was that Nick sure as hell didn't have to use Harry for money, but apparently real life facts didn't matter for the people writing those articles. Harry would be lying if he wouldn’t admit to wanting to burn every single copy of the magazines that had come out the last few weeks, but he knew that A) it was impossible and B) it wouldn't change anything because these were shallow people who didn't really care.

He had learned that the hard way in the five years he’d been in the centre of public attention which made Harry grateful of how well the paparazzi treated him when he and Nick went out with Noel.

After Harry had finally taken the step of going public with everything, doing some sort of press-conference, things had turned out much better than expected. He had asked for them not to harm his family in exchange for all the information they wanted. Paparazzi had of course shown mad interest in the three of them but, at least up until now, they hadn’t once crossed the line when Noel was with them. Harry was thankful for that and if the stupid rumours about Nick were what it took for things to be this calm, then he'd have to learn to live with them.

Once the news were over Harry listened more closely again because today was apparently one of the better shows, maybe it had to do with it being a Friday and all.

“So since we are on the topic, Nick...”

“Yes, Finchy. What topic?”

“Your love life.”

“Oh, were we on that one? Didn't notice.” Harry could hear the smirk on Nick's lips and it sounded so similar to when he'd been asked about Harry all those years ago that Harry's heart may have skipped a beat or two while he excitedly waited for the discussion to go on.

“Well you apparently had a night off from child duties, didn't you? Attended the annual GQ-Dinner I think...”

Okay, so that wasn't where he thought this was going. They'd both been invited to that and had decided that Nick should go because of his Fashion ambassador things and all, so there was no way for this to still be about Harry now. He wouldn't admit it to anyone but he couldn't lie to himself, he had fucking hoped for it to be about him and for Nick to sound fond instead of what he otherwise showed towards Harry at the moment.

“I did attend that, yes. Very nice to see all the fashiony people. Though very depressing as well with them being pretty for a living and me having a face for the radio. So standing next to beautiful young people – not so great.”

They carried on talking about all the people Nick had met and finally paused on him being seen leaving with RJ King around eleven. Harry turned off the radio right after that because that night, Nick had come home at two in the morning and he really didn't need to know any more details of what he had been up to. Yes, it might have been over-dramatic but no, he didn't care and Nick wasn't here to witness him being the jealous stay-at-home wife. So that was that.

“Oh, don't judge me with your baby eyes and your baby problems. Good thing you can't tell on me yet. And you, Puppy. You are both sworn to secrecy because he doesn't need to know how pathetic I am, alright? Good.” Harry didn't even feel as bad about practically talking to himself as he should have, which was either quite nice or really really sad but then again... he didn't care. He hated hearing stories about Nick hooking up with models while he simultaneously kept shutting down every attempt from Harry trying to get closer to him.

\---

As Nick finally managed to unlock the door, which he definitely hadn't tried five bloody times, he was still kind of proud of himself for actually pulling through that one. He'd like to see someone else doing a better show than him on the two hours of sleep he'd gotten. At best.  
Over the years he'd found that those shows were actually the good ones, because he'd put much more effort into it to cover up his lack of sleep. Usually it was because of a massive hangover, but this time it was for a different reason.

The reason for his impressive two hours greeted Nick when he stepped in through the door. Crying at the top of his small lungs, Noel had fallen ill for first time after now six months of absolutely nothing, and apparently he still hadn't recovered. Nick quickly greeted Puppy who seemed annoyed out of her mind and made his way upstairs, trying to find the source of the lovely sound. After he had found it, he wished he hadn't for a moment, because what he found immediately made him feel things he hadn’t planned on feeling and with only two hours of sleep it was way too hard to cover them up properly.

Like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, Harry looked at him helplessly when Nick entered Noel's room. He was wearing Nick's by now antique Dr Dre shirt over a pair of running shorts which seemed out of place but those shorts weren't Nick's main problem. It was the shirt, which Harry had worn plenty of times before, but back then he'd mumbled sweet nothings into it after or while Nick had made his body fall apart by fucking him senseless. So yeah. That shirt was evil. Just like the fucking neon sign downstairs really, but he wouldn't even go there now.

"I have no fucking idea what to do anymore, Nick. Like, he threw up on all of my things and I don't know how to get him to stop crying and I just wanna shower but like...what if he's seriously sick like...maybe we should see a doctor or something? This can't be right...my head hurts. God, please just stop crying..."

Nick had rarely heard Harry talk that fast and it actually broke his heart a little to see him so stressed and worried and completely helpless. All he could do was to try and find some way to calm Harry down.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious. Just give him to me. Maybe he'll stop then...can just be some totally stupid thing." Well, Noel didn't stop. No matter which of his favourite positions Nick tried he didn't fucking stop. Harry looked more panicked with every second, but Nick wouldn't have been who he was if he didn't have an idea that would solve both the crying-baby-problem and the Harold-freaking-out problem.

"Harry, he is fine. You know when he does that thing where he gets mad about being tired and then gets even angrier when he notices he's falling asleep? He's probably just fucking knackered. Go have a shower, I'll deal with it."

Harry didn't look as happy about Nick's discovery as Nick had expected when he walked past Harry to his bedroom to get what he needed. Nick didn't care too much about it though because he really needed for this child to stop crying.

"What are you doing?"

"We are going to listen to some classic music to calm down while you have a shower. Now leave."

Still rocking Noel back and forth, although it obviously didn't have any effect, Nick dug through the masses of CD's on his bedside table to find the one he was looking for.

"Classic music? It's not really the time for your stupid jok-"

Nick remembered telling Harry to leave but maybe he was imagining things as Harry was still leaning against the door frame, apparently getting angry about Nick's parenting techniques.

"Is that a Drake record, Nick? You've got to be kidding me." As usual angry Harry didn't stand a chance against giggly Harry and so as Nick walked past him again - this time to head for the living room - he was shaking his head and snorting as he followed them down the stairs.

"Well, that is what we do when you are out there doing your thing. So shut up or leave us to it."

Soon enough, the first notes of Nothing Was The Same sounded through the room and Nick was praying to whoever was watching to make Noel react like he always did when Nick put on music. And he did. He fucking did. He didn't stop crying entirely, but he definitely calmed down and turned it more into whiny noises than actual crying. Nick was so fucking proud not only of himself actually being something like a father figure (in an alternate universe where putting Drake on was a parenting technique), but also of the effect it had on Harry. He had been stood there watching them doubtfully but now he was visibly relaxing, going back to tired smiles and dimples and Nick had done that. He had calmed Noel down and, with that, had made Harry happy which was really all he cared about, as pathetic as that might be.

When the whiny noises started getting more and more sporadic, Harry signalled that he'd leave to take a shower. Nick just nodded, afraid that if he said something it might come out as I calmed your child down, I love you, please love me back and that couldn't happen again. He hadn't enjoyed it too much the last time, so he stuck with humming along to the song while Noel was slowly giving up the fight against sleep, his eyes finally closing.

\---

Harry got out of the steamy bathroom about ten minutes later, actually not feeling too bad anymore. Impressive, what a few minutes of warm water could do to your body. Carefully listening to every sound in the house, he tried to detect the crying, but there was nothing.

As he walked down the stairs and into the living room, the only thing Harry heard was Drake's The Language playing quietly through the lounge and he couldn't keep a smile off his face. She just wanna smoke and fuck, I said girl that's all that we do. If anyone would ever ask him to describe Nick, Harry would've told them that he lulled a sick baby to sleep with a Drake song, and that would've described Nick in the most detailed and perfect way.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes when he finally reached the foot of the stairs. Cradling the sleeping bundle in his arms, Nick walked back and forth swaying his hips to the beat, softly humming along. Fortunately nobody could hear Harry's thoughts because - yes, he was happy and thankful and glad that Noel was sleeping and well - but he was also incredibly overcome with the stupid urge to kiss Nick. To just go over to him in those stupid skinny jeans showing off his legs in combination with a stupid white shirt and a stupid hoodie over it. Why were those things stupid? Because they made him look so stupidly good and Harry could've gone on for hours about the stupid big watch on Nick’s wrist or the stupid stubble that was on his skin nowadays and other stupid fucking things. The worst of all might have been Nick’s bloody quiff though, bobbing up and down to the rhythm of his movements. While Harry was imagining running his fingers through it and digging his nails into it to have something to hold on to, because he was always overwhelmed when Nick kissed him, the same turned around and softly cleared his throat.

"Feeling better?"

"Ehrm...yes...yeah, is he asleep?"

Harry was twenty-five years old and he still blushed like a little girl because Nick had pulled him out of those kind of thoughts. So, yes, changing the topic to baby things. Perfect.

"Yesss, out cold. Probably for about twenty bloody hours. Maybe we should sleep too? Like take the opportunity while it's still there?" We should sleep. Which meant Nick walking off to his own stupid bedroom.

"Probably...but like...let's take him to bed with us, maybe? I mean more comfortable when he wakes up then..." And I would get to sleep next to you after months of not doing it. Harry didn't say that second part out loud but he fucking meant it.

"Right, yeah. Well, up to your chambers then, Styles." No, Harry's heart did not stumble in anticipation because Nick agreed to sleep in his bed and he definitely didn't think of ways to maybe get a kiss or two out of him.

\---

Nick had been right. Noel was pretty much knocked out from crying for what had felt like seven years, so when Nick carefully put him down in the middle of Harry's bed, he didn't do his usual grumpy don't put me down, I wanna sleep on your arm routine. He just slept. Peacefully and deeply just like the angel he pretended to be.

“Can't believe little Satan actually decided to shut up. I still have a ringing in my ears I think.” Quietly, so he wouldn't risk waking Noel up again, Nick was already chattering away as Harry closed the door. Apparently Nick did not feel the tension coming from Harry, so he also didn't think anything about Harry walking up to him, only stopping when he was about two inches away.  
“Popstar, what-”

Harry reminded himself to breathe deeply and not just jump Nick because that might have been the wrong approach for what he was after. That was easier said than done though, with the smell of Nick’s cologne and cigarettes – did he smell fucking cigarettes? - and just Nick in his nose.

“I want to kiss you.” Back in the day, when they had still done stuff like this, Nick had always liked when Harry had been his usual naïve and blunt self; literally saying anything that came to his mind and not being embarrassed or ashamed of wanting stuff that maybe wasn't completely decent. He was going for that now, because Harry was sick of pretending and thinking about how to phrase things so Nick wouldn't get upset and back away.

“No...that's...no.”

The not backing away part obviously hadn't worked out and Harry felt like choking as he watched Nick taking as many steps backwards as he could without hitting the bed behind him. No. Just like that.

True, Harry had doubted if Nick still felt for him like he once had, but there had been hope somewhere deep down and Nick had shattered that with just one word. No. Harry felt his cheeks burn up, his throat still seemed terribly tight and he couldn't believe that he was stupid enough to do this and fuck things up again. Nick had never – not once in his life – backed away from Harry. Like physically tried to get more distance between them and as Harry watched him do that now he felt sick, he was sorry and wished to be able to just take back what he had said. All he wanted now was go back to suppressing every single one of these ridiculous thoughts for the rest of his life.

“Sorry. I... just thought...I shouldn't have...sorry.” Why couldn't he form one fucking sentence to properly admit that he was a dickhead? Giving Nick the space he obviously wanted, Harry took a few steps back as well, ashamed to look into the eyes of the person in front of him, scared of what they might tell him.

“No. You shouldn't have. You fucking shouldn't have and I'm gonna pretend that you didn't. For your own good. I'll take Puppy for a walk. You should sleep. Call me if he wakes up.”

Harry had never felt more stupid in his entire life and if he didn't have at least a little bit of dignity left he would've given in to the impulse to cling to Nick's leg and cry and beg for forgiveness. However, there was a tiny amount of it left in him, so he simply watched Nick walk past him and out of the room.

Noel didn't wake up for about three hours after that and Harry didn't hear Nick come back from his walk with Puppy.  
Harry found him asleep on the couch when he got up after their nap to provide both himself and Noel with food.

\---

The next week Harry had two shows every evening, most of the afternoons were spent either writing or doing promo stuff and when he was home Nick did the radio or other presenting jobs. Basically they managed to pretty much ignore each other, well, Nick ignored Harry. Harry just felt ridiculous and was still sorry.

So the days went by and when Aimee and Ian came over one day, they pretended to be nice to each other and it felt so good to have Nick chatting to him again that Harry actually kinda believed the charade for a second. It was awful because when they had left, Nick went back to avoiding talking about anything that wasn't Noel-related and that managed to rip Harry's heart out all over again.

When nothing had changed on the eighth day after their little incident, Harry was close to a mental breakdown because he had the whole freaking day off and Nick would be home any second and he hadn't mentioned any plans either so they'd be here. Just here. With no distractions and that was scaring Harry. Noel had just signed off to his usual 11 am nap which would last about two hours. Normally he took that one with Nick but as it was Friday Nick had some things to do in the studio and a meeting to attend after the show, so Noel had settled for Harry lulling him to sleep and now he was sprawled out on the couch.

He knew it was ridiculous but Harry actually started to feel nervous about Nick coming home. About not knowing what to say to him or even worse – saying the wrong thing again. So he tried to come up with a good apology in advance, so that when Nick would walk through the front door Harry could just start shouting it at him. Maybe not shout, but politely tell him, hoping that he would laugh it off and tell Harry they'd be okay and place a kiss on his lips and – fuck. No. He wasn't supposed to go there again. Nick had clearly told him that he wasn't interested and shit, he wanted to accept that. He really honestly did.

So he started over. Nick, listen, I am so so sorry for what I said, please let me take it back- Puppy jumped up and rushed to the door, turning his carefully prepared words into a stream of fuckfuckfuckshitdamnfuck. He heard the front door silently closing, Nick mumbling a few words. Suddenly Harry felt stupid sitting there with a sleeping child next to him, basically doing nothing.

When Nick stepped into the living room Harry's ability to speak had left him completely and he resigned himself to blatantly staring at the worn out jeans and knitted jumper and leather jacket and scarf and watch and stubble and car keys and basically he was fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

“Is he asleep?” He hadn't expected Nick to actually talk to him so all Harry could do was nod while his mind was screaming at him to recite his tediously practised apology.

“Nick...-”

“No. No. Shut up. Listen to me.” Making his way over from the threshold, Nick dropped his car keys and phone on a nearby table. He seemed so annoyed and on edge that Harry was actually scared of what he was going to say and already started to prepare for begging Nick not to leave him and Noel alone.

“I am thirty-four years old and I am going to be completely stupid and give in to my ridiculous impulses like I have no self-control whatsoever. I will definitely regret this because it is fucking 2013 all over again and I will blame you and only you. Do not offer something you can't give. Alright? That is cruel. Cruel and heartless and unfair. Nevertheless I am going to take it because it's close enough...so...yeah.” During his speech Nick had crossed the room and pulled Harry up to his feet, and while Harry still thought Nick might actually punch him - because not one of his words made sense to him - he felt a hand grasp his hip and pull him in, and then Nick's lips were on his.

From there on Harry’s perception of things was blurry and there wasn't much left that he could call self-control. When Nick finally opened up his mouth for him to groan into it, that was it. Five years and nothing had changed. Harry’s knees were weaker than ever before and his heart was threatening to jump out of his chest and fuck. Kissing Nick had been great before. Honestly, he had always been Harry's definition of sex and experience and just pleasure, but between that and now there were five years and it was obvious - Nick had used them to get even better. Better at kissing and better at making Harry lose it by running his hand up from his hips to his actual ribs under his actual shirt and forcing a shiver down his actual spine with that. Since it already took all of his focus not to rip Nick's clothes off, Harry couldn't concentrate on keeping his hands to himself so one of them found its way to Nick's ridiculously perfect hair. Harry pulled on it and at that Nick let a deliciously low groan escape his throat that Harry then went on to swallow, tilting Nick's head back with the hand he had in his hair.

When they pulled away after a while, neither of them able to breathe properly, Harry had no clue how much time they had spent kissing and pressing body parts against each other, basically trying to make their bodies become one but it definitely hadn't been long enough. He lunged forward to do it again when Nick's hands firmly grabbed him and pushed him away.

“We are being watched.”

Completely relaxed and content, Noel was staring up at them kicking around and lifting his tiny feet up to his face – something that had become one of his favourite activities - and Harry could feel himself blush again. Nick however – collected as always – went to pick Noel up after running a hand through his own, pretty much ruined, quiff.

“And that, dear child, was me making sure that your father is still breathing. He is. I checked very thoroughly. No worries there.” He went on to witter on about some ridiculous stuff that was obviously highly entertaining to Noel who seemed to be having the time of his life, following Nick's every move with his observing eyes.

\---

The following weeks were pretty much what Harry would call perfect, not only because Noel seemed to just love life, only cry about once a week, and actually sleep for six hours at night, but also because Nick continued to sweep Harry off his feet with make-out sessions that made him fear for his life every single time. At the time of the first one he'd thought, because of the heat of the moment, it had maybe felt better than it really was. But it hadn't. Nick seemed to really be a fucking genius at making out, which was great because it meant that lazy evenings in front of the TV also held the opportunity of cuddles and sloppy kisses and just really nice things.

The downside of all those things was that it didn't go one bit further. Nick seemed to have a strict rule which apparently said that he should never ever touch Harry below the belt. That was frustrating. Really really frustrating. They would spend a whole evening on the couch snogging their bloody faces off and when Harry was practically going crazy, a constant stream of please take me to bed now and make me forget my name rioting in his head, Nick would get up and go to bed. In his room. By himself.

After nearly three weeks of that and really trying everything he could without Nick shutting him down right at the start of it, Harry was getting desperate. He started to question his looks, his skills, his judgement of the whole situation...basically he questioned everything because he didn't know why Nick wouldn't just fucking do it. Harry hadn't done anything for a ridiculously long time and sneakily jerking himself off in the shower while his son was sleeping in the next room definitely wasn't as good as being jerked off by Nick Grimshaw. Wherever and whenever. He knew that because he had experienced it before and he wanted it back.

Like pretty much always lately, Harry’s thoughts were filled with those exact things while he sat on the armrest of the sofa opposite of Nick and listened – well, pretended to listen – to Aimee saying something about children and starting to crawl and walk but he didn't hear more than that. Shame on him, he was more interested in the necklace dangling from Nick's neck and how low-cut his tee was and how his bracelets were jingling every time he moved his stupid big and lacy hands. It happened a lot because he tended to talk with them, and Harry loved that, but he also loved when they were on him. While he imagined that, Harry missed the point were Nick got up from his spot on the sofa.

“I'm gonna go check on mini Harold for a sec. He's been bloody quiet for far too long. Maybe someone stole him or summat.” And he left Harry sitting there next to Aimee and Ian, whose eyes were fixated on the screen in front of them.

“X-Factor gets worse every bloody year...I mean yours was horrible, Haz. Really horrible. But this is just ridiculous. The second-hand embarrassment is very strong right now. Maybe I will get sick after this...”  
A small smile played around Harry’s lips because Aimee was actually hilarious when she had a whinge about the horrible destruction that was X-Factor these days and Ian seemed to love it just as much because now they were all giggly, making fun of stuff and that might have been his only opportunity.

“Uhm...gonna...toilet...” He quickly got up and took two steps at a time when hurrying up the stairs. Yes, he could've just gone to the bathroom downstairs but no, that wouldn't have benefited his plans. Which he wasn't really sure about because... what plans? He had pretty much tried every subtle hint at please have sex with me and they had all failed. When he reached the top of the stairs Nick was just leaving Noel's room and looked at him with confusion written all over his face but seemingly guessing Harry just wanted to check on things too.

“He's asleep and seems to be happy about that...maybe he's realising that sleeping for a whole night is the shit.” Nick chuckled, showing off way too lovely laughter lines around his eyes as he headed for the stairs to go back down again.

“Right...what am I doing wrong?” He hadn't meant for it to sound so sulky and childish but oh well, that was his current mood.

“What?” Nick had stopped, turned around and was now looking at him with the usual fond smile that said idiot. Harry was sick of that smile. It was nice, but not right now.

“Why won't you touch me?”

“Touch you?”

“Yes. Touch me. I want you to fucking touch me because I am really really desperate for that.” Alright, he had gotten a little loud and carried away maybe, but he was making a point here and Noel didn't care about noises when he was asleep.

“Alright...first of all shush! I do not think Aimee and Ian are very interested in your desires, popstar. And second-”

God, he knew Nick was good at talking but he couldn't be up here pretending to pee forever. His bladder wasn't that big and Aimee and Ian sure as hell weren't that stupid. So he did what he had to and took a few steps forward to press Nick against the wall, which wasn't how he did things usually but if Nick didn't care to listen, maybe he would think about it if Harry underlined his words with actions. Maybe Nick would give it a second thought when Harry made sure to scratch the skin on his throat with his teeth just a little as he kissed him there and if his hips involuntarily snapped forward and he was grinding against Nick's, well that would probably help too. When an actual, and very northern sounding, bloody hell left Nick's lips – Harry knew that Nick got a little more northern when he was aroused and he really really liked that – Harry was delighted with himself and his actions.

“If one fucking sound leaves your lips this is over. Back up.” Nick pushed Harry off him to reach for the fly of his jeans and undo it. All Harry could manage was to nod eagerly and promise to follow all of Nick's instructions both because that was what he was really good at and also, Nick's hand was in his pants so he really wouldn't object to anything. Harry would've liked to see someone saying no to anything while Nick was jerking them off deliciously slowly despite their obvious lack of time.

“Out of my fucking hair, Harold. You better concentrate on not taking too long.”

“Won't...I'm...fuuuck-” He didn't want to groan. Nick had told him not to and he didn't want to but he couldn't help it. Especially when Nick's free hand shot up and pressed against Harry’s mouth to keep him quiet as he took up speed, obviously aiming for a quick end. It wasn't really that hard because Harry sure as hell wouldn't have been able to keep it together any longer because okay, he hadn't exactly done much since Noel was born and he was desperate for Nick, because Nick was good and fucking hell, there was no point in even trying to keep his body from basically exploding with sensation.

Nick being Nick swapped his hand on Harry's mouth for his lips when he noticed Harry tensing up. Their teeth clashed together and it was anything but controlled but there was not a single thing Harry cared less about when Nick kept stroking him through his orgasm. Which, admittedly, had come ridiculously early and when Nick backed away running a hand through his hair Harry could feel his cheeks being flushed, not just with arousal but embarrassment and he went for a bashful smile but it probably just ended up looking like shit. Nick smiled back at him anyway as he planted a kiss on his forehead.

“Do not come back down like this, love. I'll cover for you with one of my glorious lies. Almost forgot how much fun you are, Harold.” Patting his chest like they were fucking best mates after a football match or something Nick gave him one last cheeky grin before heading back downstairs.

\---

“So, what you are saying is...you want to get a studio in your basement?”

He didn't really see the problem Nick was having with that but that was the case in pretty much everything Nick had a problem with, so Harry just took it in stride and continued shovelling cereal into his mouth because he was really hungry.

“Yes. Our basement, first of all...and I just feel like...we could record here, you know. And I could take up writing and recording and stuff. Like...properly do it. And...well, I wouldn't miss that much...you know, Noel's six months now...he'll be doing all kinds of stuff and I'm not gonna be around and...yeah.”

He'd talked to his mum and basically every woman he knew that'd had a baby and they had all agreed that it was about time Noel started doing things like crawling and Harry really didn't want to miss that. He had already missed the first time Noel had turned around all by himself or when he had started grabbing for things and had ripped Nick's necklace off him. Or when he had finally figured out how to rob around and actually be able to move for a few inches. Harry had missed all of those because he'd been either performing or recording or whatever. Noel tended to do all those first time things when he was with Nick which really didn't benefit the whole situation for Harry.

“You are jealous. Jealous that I get to see him doing stuff for the first time.” It didn't happen very often but right now Harry really wanted to wipe the smug smile of off Nick's face. Well, yes he was jealous. He had every right to be, didn't he?

“The only first thing I got to witness was the time he attempted to flee while I was changing his nappies and you hadn't told me about his new super cool moves.” Harry remembered that so fucking well because he had almost had a heart-attack when he'd not watched Noel for a second and found him on his way down the sofa, completely naked.

“Well, we wanted to surprise you.” He honestly was considering punching Nick to do something about the still present smile.

“Funny. Anyway I already talked to people... you know...about prices and stuff. And yeah...if you are alright with it they could start next week.”

Nick had left his spot next to Harry to crouch down where Noel was lying on a blanket surrounded by his toys, currently being inspected by Puppy which he loved more than anything judging by the hysterical laughter escaping his small body. Nick was trying to calm Puppy down a little and keep her away so she wouldn't kill Noel by drowning him in affection and Harry really had to concentrate on the topic to remember what they were talking about.

“Yeah, well it's your money, innit? Do what you want, popstar.”

“Can you stop talking about it like you don't have a say in anything? Like… it's your house and stuff.” It annoyed Harry so much. So. Fucking. Much. That Nick had to turn everything into an argument about how he didn't own the house and Harry was much richer anyway and he practically only sufficed as a nanny for when Harry had to work.

“No. It's not, Harold. It is your house and your basement and if you wanted to have a theme park in the basement then you could. It's not like we are married or anything.”

Harry guessed that someday that line had to be crossed but he hadn't expected the thoughts now coming up in him. No, we are not even in a relationship although we keep making out and sucking each other's cocks and raising a fucking child together but you are too fucking stubborn to call it anything because you still think it's just casual hooking up which it isn't because I am deeply in love with you although you are the biggest idiot on the planet. He didn't end up saying those things because Nick would've probably gone into shock and collapsed on top of Noel, who had now turned around and was lying on his stomach doing movements that could be filed under robbing. Maybe he was desperately trying to escape the situation and those were his helpless attempts of doing so.

“Well, not my fault we aren't.” Usually Harry was very good at keeping his thoughts to himself and not mutter things under his breath, but somehow that ability had left him and he had said that out loud. Nick was staring at him from where he was sitting on the floor and now Harry didn't know what to do or say. He could literally see the damage his words were causing inside of Nick's brain and he wanted nothing more than to take them back.

Both of them were obviously searching for something to say but nothing left either of their mouths before Harry spotted a movement in the corner of his eye. It took a lot for him to avert his eyes from a still very alarmed Nick to Noel who was actually crawling. On his knees and hands. Moving away from Nick. Like a real baby-crawl. Indefinable sounds coming from him as he moved along, looking rather inexperienced and as if he was about to fall over any second.

Nick was staring now, too. Disbelieving grimace swapped for a proud, fatherly smile as he followed Noel making sure to clear his way of all possible obstacles such as shoes or overly-excited puppies. Just like that, their initial discussion was forgotten and Harry finally got to witness a real first-time, not on video or in pictures but actually by physically being there.

\---

He loved his job. Nick honestly did, every bit of it but today, after first doing the Breakfast Show and then have a meeting, just to be rushed over to the studio where they filmed two episodes of his new show, he was so fucking tired. Starting at half six in the morning and coming home at half ten in the evening might have been alright five years ago but now he was knackered. Not even physically but mentally, because keeping up your spirits for sixteen hours could be quite exhausting. And so he really, really enjoyed unlocking the front door because the image of a comfortable, and probably already warmed up, bed was occupying his mind and it looked so good.

He came in to find Puppy peacefully resting in her bed, only looking up for a second as if to show him that she had noticed him but couldn't be bothered to say hi. He was alright with that, their love was bigger than acknowledging when the other one came home.

Unlike what he had expected, he found Harry in front of the TV – without the baby who was probably sleeping – and not already in bed.

“Is he in bed?” Harry's eyes left the screen the second Nick spoke up and they lit up as they met Nick's for a short glance, before dropping to his wrist where he was taking off his watch. Apparently that was really interesting and worth licking your bottom lip over, in the most obscene way ever. Nick's mind wasn't able to process things very fast in his tired state, so he didn't waste another thought on it.

“No, he's not here.” Nick did waste another thought when a) Harry turned the telly off and b) told him that Noel was gone.

“What? Where is he?”

“Gemma took him.” Harry got up and walked over to him, coming to a stop terrifyingly close, which in that itself was a little creepy but then he didn't do anything besides standing an inch away from Nick, breathing slowly and staring up at him. That was creepy.

“She took him? As in robbed? Harry, I know she's your sister but she can't just steal your son.” Nick found himself incredibly funny and he didn't quite understand why Harry only grinned and didn’t laugh properly, because Harry laughed about his shitty jokes like they were comedic gold so surely he could laugh about something that actually was funny.

“I asked her to.” Alright. No funny mood. Nick started to feel weird now with them standing in the lounge, opposite each other, breath on skin. That was strange.

“Okay...why? We are both free until noon -”

“Exactly.” Now gathering up its spirits and starting to work properly, Nick's brain started yelling at him really loudly because it had figured out what was going on.

“Oh.”

He hated to admit it because he'd had his fair share of hook-ups and crazy sexual encounters, he knew what he was doing, but he felt nervous. He felt nervous and pressured and that was so stupid because there was literally nothing they hadn't done before. It might have been five years ago but back then Harry had seen and heard and felt Nick in every possible way and Nick had seen Harry in his most vulnerable and carefree moments and they had been so fucking comfortable around each other. But right now, Nick was nervous and somewhere in the back of his mind he didn't want to go there.

“I just - sneaky handjobs under the covers aren't...I need you, Nick. I need to feel you and taste you and hear you and I want to...like... take proper time for it...because...you know I haven't really done that with anyone since...you know.”

One of Nick's biggest weaknesses was when Harry spoke the things he thought out loud. Blunt and naive. He wasn't afraid to talk about his deepest emotions or dirtiest desires and that simply enchanted Nick and made him utterly and completely weak for this boy...who was now a man. Nick tended to forget that.

“You haven't-”

“No...well...when we stopped...doing that...I met some guy in a club. And he kind of looked like you and I was heartbroken and desperate to feel you so I let him fuck me. In the club toilet. And...yeah. That hurt and was really shit and...after that I didn't try again.” Harry looked down on his hands, bashfully biting down on his bottom lip and Nick felt so sorry, because he hated hearing stories like that. He hated knowing that people didn't treat Harry well when he would've known how to do it right. He hated knowing that someone would mistreat Harry, who always gave himself up one hundred percent, because it was unfair and he couldn't accept that.  
Somehow Nick had stopped feeling nervous in the course of hearing that story. Nervousness had made place for a desperate need to swipe those memories out of Harry's head and fill it with new ones, to make him feel happy and relaxed and satisfied. So Nick took Harry’s hand in his without another word - because what was he supposed to say that would make a difference? - and led him upstairs.

From the second they had walked into the bedroom, things were exactly the same as they had been five years ago. Nick still knew every reaction that Harry would give him if he did certain things and he did them all because he couldn't wait to witness them again. He bit down on Harry’s throat where his pulse was beating beneath the skin and Harry immediately slumped down a little, just like Nick had expected, before he let out a low and breathy groan. Nick went on to force a shiver out of Harry’s body when he took off his shirt and made Harry’s jaw drop when he started to tell him what he was gonna do in a few moments. Nick could've gone on like this for another twenty hours and he still wouldn't have had enough of seeing Harry react the same way as he did all those years ago. It was fascinating, and it did weigh Nick's heart down a lot to be honest, so he decided that it was best just to focus on the pliant body beneath him instead of his stupidly romantic and shitty thoughts.

“Nick-”

He knew Harry tended to babble away but the way he breathlessly pressed out Nick's name kind of seemed like he wanted to say something more, so Nick stopped the movement of his fingers inside of Harry while his other hand stayed on Harry’s hip and he just watched Harry's face going from closed eyes and open mouth to frowning down at Nick.

“No. Don't stop...I...more.” Alright. That was...so Harry didn't want him to stop then. Nick did remember lots of things but it had apparently slipped his mind how Harry completely lost the ability to form sentences and keep any composure when Nick worked him open. As requested, he continued slowly pushing two fingers in before carefully pulling them out far enough to add a third one, Harry going limp beneath him. Nick had to concentrate so fucking hard not to stop and admire how relaxed Harry was as if he wasn't fully naked and laid out and completely vulnerable. Once again, Nick's heart swelled up a little because Harry gave himself up like that. To him. But Harry didn't need to know that he felt like that.

“'m not gonna last lo-”

“Yes, you are. Relax, love. Deep breaths. I don't want you com-”

“At least f- urgh.” Sometimes Nick maybe was a little cruel, yes, but Harry had cut him off midsentence so it was only fair that Nick cut him off, too. Only that he didn't have to talk for that, just push in a little deeper and twist his fingers a bit.

“Shit. I...fuck me. Now.”

"Pardon...?"

“Please. Please...”

The first time Nick pressed in slowly, giving Harry time to adjust, he felt like he might faint. Just for a second, but he still did. It just felt so familiar and so good and way too hot and tight and yeah, he definitely needed to breath. Breathing was necessary.

He tried to imitate Harry who was taking deep and loud breaths that made his rips show and his chest lift off the bed. For a few minutes that was the only thing Nick could focus on. Watching Harry and remember to breathe.

“God...Nick...'s good. Fuck....missed you so...shit...”

Just like Nick remembered, Harry liked to babble probably because he just couldn't be bothered with controlling his mouth, so he didn't. He only stopped and crunched up his face when Nick involuntarily pushed in deeper than before, tipping Harry over the edge. It was incredible to watch him trying to force his body to calm down for Nick.

“It's alright, love. Go on.” Nick hadn't even finished his sentence when Harry already  
spurted over his own stomach, going loose around him immediately and Nick wouldn't admit that watching him do that was what gave him the rest as well.

\---

"Gillian, will you please stop cursing around- urgh. Noel...fuck."

Sometimes Nick wished back the time when Noel hadn't been able to do anything but lie around because in those days, he hadn't been this stressed out. As he was hurrying after the enthusiastically crawling toddler, Puppy jumped up and joined in, running around because she obviously thought that it was some new cool game Nick had forgotten to invite her to.

"Puppy, lie back down! To your bed. Come on!" While he was trying to be a good babysitter and not let Noel climb down the three steps into the kitchen, Gillian was close to having a heart-attack on the sofa because apparently the sight of it was extremely funny. She couldn't even properly manage to breathe between her fits of laughter and was getting red like a tomato from the endeavour.

"Do not spill wine on that sofa. It cost more than your fucking life, Gellz."

"Yes, sorry, Mr Styles. Didn't notice you getting so bloody posh, love. I will neither spit on your designer sofa nor will I use one of them bad swearwords." Evil grin plastered to her face, she watched him carry Noel back to the sofa with him. Nick would probably collapse after the next round of fetch the baby. Hell, he wasn't twenty anymore.

"Don't even-" He was out of breath from catching a toddler. His life really was going downhill. At least Noel seemed to be enjoying their little game as he wriggled around in Nick's arms trying to free himself so he could take off again.

"What? Call you posh?"

"Mr Styles." It actually made Nick's gut twist and sadly Gillian knew him well enough to know that it did. There was no point in lying about it to her, he'd given that up about ten years ago. He still didn't like it though, and the way her face changed told him he wasn't going to like what was coming either.

"I take it you didn't have the talk then. Grim, you can't-"

"Go on like this forever. I know. But it's fun, innit? Handjob here, little kiss there. Nobody needs to put their heart on the line again. It's fine, really. Not as complicated and all that." The problem was that he didn't even believe himself right now, so trying to sell it to Gillian was impossible.

"I get it, Nick. I get that he rejected you once and it hurt and-"

"Yeah, but thanks for reminding me. Really nice of you. Lovely memories to relive, that." Since he really had to sit down for a bit, or his back would kill him tomorrow morning, Nick used the secret weapon of ladyfingers to make Noel want to stay in his lap.

"It's in the past, Nicholas. He looks at you like you are some sort of god or summat - don't ask me why, but he does. You are raising a bloody child together. There's no room for you being a coward and don't even take a breath to explain to me how it is easier right now. It isn't. Are you just gonna go ahead and shut him up with a blowjob every time he wants to talk about your relationship for the rest of your life?"

Well, yeah that was kind of what he had planned but hearing it coming out of Gillian's mouth, it didn't seem like the thing she would support.

"Sort it out. Figure out if you are really still in love with him. Figure out if you are ready to stay with someone for longer than your usual three-second-attention-span before you decide to chicken out. And then talk to him."

As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. These talks always ended in her having a monologue about all the things he had to do and him finally realising that she was right. The exception today was that he already knew, he had known for the last five years; during which he had talked to Gillian about a million times how Harry was the only one Nick could imagine actually settling down and being serious with. No, he couldn't just imagine it. He wanted it with all of his stupid fucking heart. The same heart he'd had to put back together after Harry had shattered it years ago, so at least his inner conflict was somehow justified.

"You know I don't have to make my bloody mind up about that. It's just-"

"I know. He hurt you. But you are holding his child right now, Nick. The child you are raising with him and wishing was yours too because you want nothing more than to have all of that with him. Properly. Take your time if you need to, but I'm not gonna watch you put yourself through all of this again."

What was he supposed to say to that? He'd already said all the things about a thousand times every fucking time Gillian had joined him on his kitchen-floor after Harry had left for tour. He knew she was right. He knew he had to face all of it, so he nodded along, pretending to believe that he'd be able to do that one day. And, like the good friend she was, Gillian joined in his act even though the pity in her eyes and her hand rubbing his back gave her away.

\---

"Mhh?"

"Harry. It's me. Sorry for waking you but we need to talk."

"Is he alright?"

"What? Oh. Yes, Noel's fine. I'm just...I really need your opinion on something and you won’t be back for another three days but I kind of need to sort it out now and...yeah."

"Oh...yeah, right. Go on."

"They asked me to do a chatshow. For Channel 4... like yeah... friday nights from 9 to 10 but-"

"What? That's- fuck, I'm so- that's amazing."

"Is it? Because...you know I'm already recording Tuesdays for BBC Three and then Channel 4 would be on Mondays and with the Breakfast Show and the fashion things that are coming up-"

"Nick! Say yes to them. Now!"

"But-"

"Nicholas. This is amazing. Gemma or Aimee or my mum or whoever can watch Noel if I can't...like...you are not going to let someone who isn't even half as good as you get it because of our- ... Noel. Alright?"

"Alright."

"I'm happy for you."

"Yeah...thanks, I guess. I'm...dunno really. Bit mad, innit?"

"Yeah...does it have a name yet?"

"Ehrm no, it's - no..."

"They should do something like... Late night with Grimmy-"

"Right, I'll stop you there, popstar. How late is over there? Like three am? Go back to sleep."

"Is it like Chatty Man or something? I wanna come on!"

"Bed."

"Right...how's Noel?"

"With your sister. Bed, Harold. I need to get back to work anyway."

"'cause you're all busy and hard-working...'s sexy."

"Yes, incredibly sexy. Actually not able to touch myself anymore 'cause I'm too hot for that...now close them eyes. See you in a bit, popstar."

"Can't wait. Byeeeee.."

\---

Bath time always seemed to be the highlight of Noel's days and sometimes, Harry tended to end up even wetter than the child. Nick usually liked to just sit there and smile at the idiots he actually chose to spend every day with. He would only get into action when Noel was all dried up and Harry would turn around to get Noel’s clothes because since he became a pro at walking, Noel would just take off and run for his life, arms and legs paddling around awkwardly – he had probably inherited that from Harry – to save himself from getting dressed. That's where Nick came in today, pretty much catching Noel in motion and immediately lifting him up, so that he continued to run in the air for a few moments, Nick grabbed a hold of the small body trying to get past him.

“Stop it, you horrible nudist. Harold, we raised the spawn of exhibitionist Satan!”

Naked toddler wriggling around in his hands, obviously delighted with their little game of tag, Nick walked back to where Harry was grinning at them, holding up Noel's clothes.

“Probably my genes, really sorry for th-”

Harry's giggled apology on behalf of his son was interrupted by said child shocking both of them with what left his lips. They were used to incoherent noises flowing out of his mouth when he babbled along, but they definitely hadn't expected the very clear Dad that was combined with an aggressive little finger pointing at Nick's cheek.

For a second Harry seemed worried that Nick might drop Noel because he was actually shocked to the core. They had just witnessed the first word leaving his mouth and it had been Dad and he had called Nick that. Nick. He had called him his dad. He didn't want to be too excited about it yet because many sounds left his lips during the day and they weren't all purposely created, so maybe it had just been a coincidence.

But while Nick was still frozen in his movement and just stood there with a naked toddler poking his cheek and Harry smiling at him with the fondest smile that had ever existed, Noel let out a loud giggle before he continued.

Dad Dad Dad Dad.

With every Dad he said, Harry's smile grew wider and Nick got more filled with pride and excitement and just overall confusion. He still didn't know how to actually move let alone talk so Harry took the child out of Nick’s arms, Noel gladly wrapping his arms around Harry's neck; not without pointing at Nick every few seconds and shouting Dad though. Every time, Harry ecstatically praised him for it, smiling up at Nick with so much love in his eyes that Nick actually thought he might be sick.

When Noel was already tucked in and had started his night sleep – because bath time was not only fun but also terribly exhausting – Nick still hadn't fully recovered. He sat in the lounge, glass of wine on the table in front of him, and pretended to watch Celebrity Juice while Harry was on the phone in the other room. It was just...he knew that he was some kind of dad to Noel. But he wasn't his dad, he remembered that every time someone asked him if he was Noel’s father or how old his child was when they were out with Puppy. He normally didn't mind, because he in fact hadn’t had anything to do with how Noel had been made, and Nick was just a really nice friend who helped out his pal with the raising of his son.

Except Harry wasn't just a pal and Nick had moved in, and they had started to share a bed about six months ago without ever talking about it. Nick woke up to Harry's face in the morning, went to work, came home to Harry and Noel - who was waiting for his nap, then watched Harry leave for work, spent the day with the child until Harry came home, they ate together and put Noel to bed together, and then cuddled and kissed and had sex and well – they might have become a couple without realising. Nick also might have been having a little crisis because he had never been very good at dealing with feelings and all that kind of stuff.

“You alright, dad?” As always Harry managed to hit the jackpot. Right where it hurt the most. Bloody popstars and their feeling-detection-abilities.

“I'm...yeah. Wicked.”

“What's wrong?”

Like the needy little kitten he still was after seven years, Harry nuzzled against Nick's body obviously not realizing that he was a fully grown man who simply didn't fit under Nick's arm.

“Oh, what's wrong? I don't know. Your son called me dad today. Which I am not but kind of really wanna be and I might have realised that I have been in a relationship with your for about a year now and neither of us said anything about it and I really need to know where we stand here because if I actually am in a relationship and have a child then I would like to know. But aside from that, everything's sick.”

Those had been a lot of words coming out of his mouth in a very short time and when Nick took a deep breath afterwards, Harry was just dopily smiling up at him from where he was still nuzzled into Nick’s chest.

“You are his dad, Nick. Just as much as I am.”

“Yeah...no...but he called me that. He thinks I'm his dad.” Why didn't Harry get the importance of this? What was wrong with him? Why did he still just lie there while Nick was re-evaluating his life?

“I know...smart boy...Nick, you've been there every day of his life, you are his dad. I think you might have to like...accept that?” He finished that with a smirk on his stupidly pretty lips and Nick thought about what he had said. He might be right after all, maybe Nick would just have to accept the fact that this was real and he was actually a dad.

When Harry's smirk vanished and was replaced by his familiar frowny, unsure face, Nick was worried again.

“And as far as relationship-stuff goes...I kind of didn't want to scare you off by...you know...putting a label on it because you obviously like to freak out and back off when that happens...and yeah. I really didn't wanna give you up again, I guess...I mean....I haven't really felt the need to like see anyone else or anything but...well, you have been linked to people. And that's fine. We didn't really agree on not doing that but..yeah...maybe we should talk about it...cause, you know...I'd prefer you not to if you...I mean. Yeah...”

For people who didn't know Harry, this might have been a big load of bullshit and they would've criticised that he wasn't even able to form proper sentences, but all Nick – who knew Harry was never selfish or asked for anything that would make only him feel better – could hear was Harry saying that he wanted Nick to himself. Harry... who would give you all of his favourite food after not eating for three days if you asked him to. It actually made Nick feel a little guilty, because Harry had obviously tried not to pressure him because he knew all about Nick's habit of backing out of any romantic thing as soon as someone tried to corner him or call him their boyfriend. Commitment just didn't really suit him, or so he thought, because what made Nick feel even stranger was that he didn’t feel pressured or forced into anything right now.

Apparently Nick had kept quiet for too long, as Harry continued.

“I mean I'm not asking you to...like… if you don't want this to be anything it doesn't have to be. We can continue this...thing. I'd kind of take what I can get but...yeah...it really feels like shit when I don't know if you are seeing anyone else and if I’m like...the only one who's in love here...so.” He had given up cuddling up to Nick now and had sat up in front of him looking as young and insecure as ever and Nick felt carried back to five years ago, when he himself had been the one confessing his love and being shut down afterwards. When Harry had looked exactly like this, young and insecure about his feelings. Nick just wanted to hug him and make him stop.

“I love you, Harold. Always have, always will.”

Now the green eyes in front of him slowly changed from doubtful to not believing this was actually real. Nick felt pressured suddenly; he wasn't good at these romantic speeches kinds of things.

“I haven't like...after we hooked up for the first time. There was nobody else. So...yeah. Guess I'm up for it if you are?”

“Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Harry didn't curse that often, so Nick took the hint that he probably wasn't able to say much else and just pulled Harry back to his chest.

A quick kiss to the top of his head was all Nick could manage right now because he was under the impression that he might have just agreed to being Harry Styles' boyfriend and that really freaked him out, in the best way but still, it was fucking scary. Nick had wished for that five years ago, then he had given up on it shortly afterwards and kind of just tried to forget about it.

Now here was his favourite popstar cuddled to his chest, mumbling I love you against it and the most important part was that Nick didn't want to back out. He didn't have the usual escape plans building up in his mind, making him go crazy.

That felt really, really nice for a change.


End file.
